Chapter 9 #3
Cipher would absolutely use whatever information he gathered against the Aegis somehow.
He’d never knowingly help the Alliance, let alone the shadowy council that governed it.
His hatred for authority ran bone-deep, and his moral compass pointed firmly in the direction of “whatever benefits Cipher.”
I set the rose down with a sigh. Wraith it was, then. Another difficult genius to manage, another mountain to climb.
At least this one hadn’t seen me naked.
I clicked on my inbox, desperate for distraction. The urgent email from Alliance PR still sat there.
7:00 PM - Dinner Date with Valor - Elysium Restaurant (Heroes En Vogue Magazine Interview)
I groaned. Right. The interview. With Valor. Tonight.
As my eyes scanned the email for details, my stomach dropped.
Romantic candlelit dinner. Exclusive interview opportunity. Discussing your blossoming relationship.
I stared at those words until they blurred. Blossoming relationship. With Valor.
My phone buzzed.
Tech Support
Free tonight? I have an idea that doesn’t involve breaking and entering. Mostly.
I stared at the text, reading it three times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Was he asking me out?
I should ignore him. That would be the sensible thing to do. The Annie Bishop who had her life together would delete the message and go back to preparing for tonight’s interview.
But apparently that Annie was on vacation, because my fingers started typing.
Did you cancel your match last night to bring me dinner?
His response came almost immediately.
That wasn’t an answer to my question.
And that wasn’t an answer to mine. Did you cancel a professional obligation just to make sure I ate?
Three dots appeared, disappeared, then reappeared.
Are you free tonight or not?
I’ll answer if you answer my question. Though I’m not sure why you didn’t just hack my schedule.
I did. But asking you personally before looking seemed more gentlemanly.
How thoughtful. Answer my question.
Another pause, longer this time. I could picture him weighing his options, deciding which answer would serve him best.
My ability to be a gentleman has officially run out. Elysium with Valor. Interesting choice. Didn’t realize fake dating required candles and champagne.
I blinked at the screen. So he was just going to look at my schedule rather than answer me. Typical.
Jealous of my fake date?
Why was I poking the bear? The extremely dangerous, morally ambiguous bear who had already proven time and again that he had no respect for boundaries or security systems?
Jealous that he gets to spend the evening with you? Yes. Jealous knowing you’ll hate every second of it? Not in the slightest.
I stared at the text, heat creeping up my neck.
It’s just an interview.
Is it, though? Because according to the brief I just read, you’ll be discussing your “blossoming relationship” over champagne and candlelight.
It’s PR. Nothing more.
I give it three weeks before Alliance PR has you two “accidentally” photographed leaving his apartment in the morning. Four weeks before a “source close to the couple” leaks engagement rumors.
That’s ridiculous.
Six weeks until they stage a dramatic breakup for ratings, then reconciliation by sweeps week. You’ll be married by Christmas, divorced by Valentine’s Day.
Seven months from now, you’ll be writing a tell-all memoir: “My Life with Valor: How I Survived Dating a Man Who Schedules His Own Reflection Time.”
I bit my lip, fighting a smile. The man was infuriating, but occasionally funny.
Stop it.
“Chapter One: The Day I Realized His Hair Products Had Their Own Closet.”
Cipher.
“Chapter Two: Why There Were Always Three People In Our Relationship: Him, Me, and His Mirror.”
You’re not funny.
“Chapter Three: The Sex Was Great Until He Started Narrating His Own Performance.”
My cheeks burned at the mention of sex.
I need to go.
“Chapter Four: How I Learned to Compete with His Reflection for Attention.”
I took a deep breath and tried again.
Seriously, Cipher. Did you cancel your match to bring me dinner?
Yes.
Just one word. So simple, yet it hit me like a punch to the gut.
I didn’t even thank you.
His response came quickly.
I didn’t exactly give you the opportunity. I barged in and ordered you around.
Still. You went out of your way and I was...
Stubborn? Difficult? Adorably resistant to basic self-care?
I was going to say ungrateful.
I don’t expect someone to thank me when I barge in and order them around. Unless it’s in the bedroom. Then gratitude is appropriate.
Heat rushed to my face. Memories flashed through my mind, his commanding voice in my ear, his hands pinning mine above my head, the way he’d made me beg...
That’s inappropriate.
Is it? You brought up gratitude. I just clarified when I expect it.
God, he was infuriating. And yet I couldn’t stop the flutter in my stomach, the warmth spreading through me.
I have to go. I have an interview to prepare for.
Wear the black lingerie. The set with the little bows and garters. Valor seems like one to love basics.
This was going to be the longest night of my life, and my fingers were typing faster than my common sense could intervene.
I’m not wearing lingerie to dinner with Valor. I’m being dressed by an Alliance stylist, thank you very much.
Let me guess. They’ll put you in something beige and forgettable. Wouldn’t want you outshining Golden Boy.
It’s a WORK ASSIGNMENT. It doesn’t matter what I wear.
Work assignments don’t typically involve candlelight and “gazing adoringly” at your colleague. I checked the Keeper handbook.
Pretty sure “appropriate lingerie for fake dating” isn’t in there either.
I could write that chapter for the next edition.
Why did I engage with him?
Did you know it’s incredibly easy to break a human collarbone. I wonder how his posture would look for the cameras after that.
I stared at the screen. Despite his joking around, I needed to remember that he was an actual threat to Valor’s wellbeing.
Stop it. You’re not breaking his bones.
I didn’t say I would. Though his jawline would look much better wired shut. It would certainly cut down on his monologuing.
Cipher. It is a work assignment.
I am just pointing out how fragile PR campaigns are when the talent requires reconstructive surgery. Hard to gaze adoringly at a man sipping his dinner through a straw.
Don’t you have a bank to rob?
Canceled. Suddenly more interested in what’s under your Alliance-approved outfit tonight.
And what exactly are you doing right now besides harassing me about my underwear?
Imagining taking it off you.
Slowly.
With my teeth.
I stared at my phone, debating whether to respond or just throw the device out the window and be done with it. My common sense was screaming to end the conversation, but apparently my thumbs had their own agenda.
You’re impossible.
Just honest about what I want. Unlike your fake date tonight.
Can we please stop talking about Valor?
Fine. Let’s talk about how I’m going to be at Elysium tonight. Table by the window. Perfect view of your “romantic dinner.”
My heart stopped.
You wouldn’t.
I absolutely would. Already made the reservation.
Cipher. Don’t.
Too late.
Valor preening for cameras was bad enough, but add Cipher watching from across the restaurant? That was a recipe for disaster.
Wear something blue. It makes your eyes shine when you’re furious with me.
I threw my phone down onto my desk.
I had a job to do tonight. I needed to manage a delicate PR campaign, keep Valor on script, and play the role of the adoring girlfriend flawlessly. I could not afford a disaster.
And I had to do all of that while Cipher sat in the shadows with a front row seat to me pretending to like another man’s touch. He would be analyzing every smile and every brush of hands, waiting for a single excuse to snap Valor’s neck.
I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath.
I needed this interview to go perfectly without any shattered bones or ruined reputations while a dark, twisted piece of my soul didn’t care about the PR campaign at all.
That treacherous part of me just wished I could slip away to sit at that table with the monster.